BA_Harrison While not as brilliant or as quotable as This Is Spinal Tap, writer/actor/director Christopher Guest's character driven mockumentary Best In Show-which is centred on the world of dog shows-still has plenty of wonderful, well-observed moments of dry wit, and is one of those films that I believe can only improve with repeat viewings.The film owes much of its success to its superb cast: Guest plays Harlan Pepper, redneck owner of a prize bloodhound; Eugene Levy is superb as buck-toothed Gerry Fleck, husband to Terrier owner Cookie (Catherine O'Hara), who has been around the block a lot more times than her dog; Michael Hitchcock and Parker Posey are the neurotic yuppie owners of a pampered Weimaraner; Jennifer 'Stifler's Mom' Coolidge plays Sherri, rich owner of a champion poodle, while Jane Lynch plays her lesbian dog trainer; and Michael McKean and John Michael Higgins play a camp gay couple who are showing their Shih Tzu. Meanwhile, Fred Willard shines as the hilariously un-PC co-host of the dog show, whose every remark is a howler.7/10, but this rating may well go up in the future.

sharky_55 Christopher Guest could point his camera at almost any group and find absurdity within their ranks. In 1984 he was the lead for the rock band Spinal Tap, who though they were leagues better than they actually sounded. In his self-directed Waiting for Guffman, he turned to a group of delusional, small-town hicks who compared themselves to the Kennedys and had aspirations for Broadway. And here he focuses on a niche group that seems so perfectly ripe for comedy it is a wonder that no one has noticed them before. Anyone who has owned a dog will know that we all get a little weird around them. We adopt a baby-style talk, and address them as if they could understand our every word. The owners who enter their darlings into dog shows take this behaviour a step further, with some hilarious results. The film, like Spinal Tap and Guffman, is shot in the mockumentary style, with text on the bottom of the screen to introduce us to our peculiar cast, and a faux-haphazard camera that follows behind their every step. Guest is good enough not to simply let the script dictate the laughs - the first scene is a serious therapy session between two couples, talking about the supposed trauma of one of their kids, and only after holding the tension for as long he can does Guest pan over to the bored-looking Weimaraner in the third chair. The swivel is slow and incredulous, mimicking the audience's own disbelief and effectively pulling off the bait and switch. Later when the Flecks joke about Gerry's lack of coordination, they camera just ever so slightly drifts downwards to reveal his two left feet. It's the sort of joke that is dumb and obvious once you've seen it, but through the format Guest forces laughs out of us that have no business being there, by creating a persona behind the camera that is continually exasperated and shaking its head. The intimacy of the talking head is a huge asset here, because all of the characters are inherently stereotypes. In a conventional film it would be funny enough to observe them from a distance, with all their actions and dialogue pre-planned, but it would eventually be a bit tiring. Guest's format seemingly allows them a chance to defend their reputation, and thus he creates more humour by instead making their attempts collapse into themselves. There is Jennifer Coolidge in her usual blonde bimbo role, as the trophy wife of a near catatonic sugar daddy who can barely even pretend to have similar interests as her husband outside of soup, the outdoors, frozen peas and talking. The Swans are upper-class yuppies, so of course they met in a Starbucks, but they reveal it was actually two different stores across the street from each other (they of course live in a neighbourhood where this is the norm) and are not the slightest bit aware of the ridiculousness of this little detail. One half of the gay couple has already packed six kimonos for a two day trip, so when his partner protests, he realises he may need a few more. And there is Guest himself, lovingly showing off his ventriloquy dummy like a kid on show and tell day. Best in Show never descends into mean-spirited territory because beyond the gags, we recognise that these character's eccentricities are ultimately channeled through a love for their dogs, however unresponsive the dogs themselves may actually be. When the Swans enter the airport, they push their trolley of luggage along, but they also drag Beatrice's dog crate, which is larger than all their own belongings combined. Later when Meg is desperately trying to find a replacement stripy, squeaky bee toy for her, every attempt of logic on the shop owner's part flies hopelessly past her. They have their own crazed logic; Meg shouts at her husband that Beatrice is not listening to him, not because she is a dog, but because she is freaking out about her lost toy, all while the camera focuses once again on her bored face. The Flecks are likewise obsessed. They sing duets about Terriers with harmonies so bad they end on completely different keys, and their reaction to their baby being held hostage up on a shed roof is as if the world is ending. Eugene Levy has the natural ability to be flustered before it is even appropriate; he starts a sentence, talking about the weather on the drive-up, and has not thought on how to end it (A little cloudy coming up through West Virginia. But once we get into Pennsylvania...it's still, uh, still overcast."). And of course their card is overdrawn - they are every bit the couple to spend more on their dog than themselves, and we chuckle and love them for it.

Jacob Rosen There are plenty of laugh-out-loud moments, but it's the finely observed character studies that make this gentle mockumentary by Christopher Guest so enjoyable. Guest, along with co-writer Eugene Levy, populates the world of dog shows with identifiable people and while they often draw caricatures (particularly a married couple, played by Michael Hitchcock and Parker Posey, who project their fears, hostilities and parenting efforts upon their Weimariner; and Michael McKean and John Michael Higgins as an over-the-top gay couple), the ensemble has such affection for the characters you're happy to accept them for who they are. This is because the improvisational aspect of the dialog makes everyone seem real; you feel as if you know and sympathize with them as they struggle to succeed, as in the case of Levy and the sublime Catherine O'Hara, playing a couple who find they can't afford a hotel room and are put up in a utility closet by the well-meaning hotel manager (wonderfully played by Ed Begley, Jr.). Even those meant to be identified as "villians" (dog handler Jane Lynch and owner Jennifer Coolidge) understand their characters so well it's impossible not to like them. The film is immensely entertaining and seems to fly by, so much so that it belies its reasonable ninety minute run time.

UnknownRealmsDotNet Dog shows -- one of the lamest and most pointless events that I can think of. Best in Show proves I'm not the only one to think so. With its zany, well-written characters, BiS makes watching snobbish dogs strutting around a hoot. All throughout watching this I felt the timing to the jokes was so perfect, the conversations were so dry and funny, that BiS reminded me of Spinal Tap. Low and behold this is not only written by Christopher Guest (the writer of Spinal Tap), but directed by him as well. And while there really is no story here, the jokes and timing are so spot on that this is too fun not to enjoy, thanks to Guest's writing and the ensemble casts' hilarious performances. Whether you are a dog fan our not, this is one dog show you can go nuts about. Very funny!